


New Beginnings

by Rhianne



Category: CI5: The New Professionals
Genre: Angst, Gen, Gen Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Series, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 19:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhianne/pseuds/Rhianne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the early days of their partnership, Sam Curtis and Chris Keel don't like each other much. It takes time, a lot of outside help and a dangerous situation for their partnership to develop into the bond we see in the series.</p><p>A trilogy of short fics that make up one story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Beginnings

New Beginnings Story One - Solitaire

~*~

_There was a man, a lonely man  
Who lost his love through his indifference  
A heart uncared, that went unshared  
Until it died within his silence_

_And keeping to himself he plays the game  
Without the love it always ends the same  
While life goes on around him everywhere  
He’s playing solitaire_

~*~

 

"Congratulations, Mr. Curtis." Standing to attention, Sam Curtis smothered his surprise at the broad smile on Harry Malone's face. Six weeks of training and he hadn't seen the head of CI5 smile once; rather Malone had constantly watched all the trainees as if they were something nasty he'd found underneath his shoe. "I'm pleased to tell you that you passed the final round of testing, and as such are now a fully trained member of CI5."

"Thank you sir," Sam replied, not quite able to smother a grin of relief at the news. He'd made it! Now if he could just get out of Malone's office without being given the 'sceptred isle' speech again, things would be going well. 

"Now, Miss Backus will run through all the paperwork with you regarding your accommodation and weaponry. All that remains is to introduce you to your new partner."

"Sir," Sam interrupted, his feeling of relief suddenly turning distinctly sour. A partner was the last thing he wanted. "I was hoping that you'd reconsider partnering me with another agent," he began, well aware how unlikely that was even before he began. "I work better alone, sir, and feel that my skills would be better served..."

"It was made perfectly clear to every trainee at the start of the induction that CI5 agent work in pairs, Mr. Curtis. I assume you were present at that particular meeting?" Malone's voice had turned distinctly icy, and he was obviously displeased at being questioned by a new recruit.

"I appreciate that, sir, but surely room can be made for exceptions to that rule? In my experience, there are many situations where a single agent can succeed where two would fail."

Sam pressed on with his argument, even though he had almost no hope of convincing his new commander. He had been at the briefing where the partnerships were mentioned, but he'd hoped, perhaps naively, that either during the training or after he'd passed, the Powers That Be would realise that he worked better alone. Ten years in MI6 had instilled into him the need to trust no-one, along with all the skills to function perfectly well as a solo agent. 

Sam Curtis neither wanted, nor needed a partner. 

"In situations like those, Mr Curtis, then we would send in one agent without his or her partner. But every agent within CI5 is assigned a permanent partner, and you are no exception." With that, Malone buzzed through to the main office. "Send in 4.5 please, Miss Backus."

A few minutes passed before the door opened, and Agent 4.5 entered the room, better known to Sam as Chris Keel. Sam smothered a groan. Malone was partnering him with Keel? Was the man crazy? The American was reckless, short-tempered, and rushed into situations without the slightest thought as to how he was going to get out of them. Almost the complete opposite of Curtis himself. How on earth did Malone think they could ever work effectively as a team?

Nodding to Malone, Keel smiled broadly at Curtis as he approached the desk, and held out his hand in greeting.

"Hiya partner," he began, but his smile faltered slightly as Curtis held out his hand, making only a token effort to return the gesture. As the two men shook hands Curtis saw Keel sizing him up, a slight trace of nervousness in the man's expression.

Releasing Keel's hand, Curtis turned back to Malone. As much as he wanted to continue their discussion, to try and convince Malone to change his mind, he had no intention of doing that with Keel actually in the room. Besides, he could see that Malone's mind was made up. Getting into an argument with the head of CI5 within an hour of being accepted to the organisation wasn't exactly a good idea.

Seeing that Curtis wasn't going to argue any more, Malone nodded and continued speaking. "Your call sign will be 3.7, Mr Curtis. Spend the rest of today gathering the various pieces of equipment necessary to commence active duty. Mr Keel I believe has already done this?" At Keel's confirmation, Malone nodded. "Good, he can show you the ropes. Then you may take the rest of the day off. I suggest you both take some time to get to know each other a little more. Welcome to CI5, gentlemen."

"Thank you sir," both men replied together before leaving Malone's office. Curtis headed straight over to Backup, and started signing the mass of forms and documents necessary before he could be issued a firearm, accommodation, phone, car, and the other equipment that came with the job at CI5.

It seemed to take forever, but Curtis and Keel weren't the only agents to have passed the training programme and most of the Ops room had been given over to getting the new recruits settled as efficiently as possible.

Finally Curtis was finished, and car keys in hand he set off for the car park to pick up his new Honda. Keel had been hovering nearby throughout the whole process, chatting quietly with Backup and some other agents whom Sam hadn't recognised. The American was obviously waiting for him, and while Sam hadn't exactly been watching him, every so often during the morning he'd heard Keel's laughter echoing through the room.

Heading towards the exit to the Ops Room, Curtis wasn't surprised when Keel appeared next to him, apparently intending on taking Malone's advice to get to know each other seriously. 

"So," Keel began, "feel like a beer? I think there's a pub round the corner..."

"Look," Curtis snapped, irritated with Keel and CI5 in general for forcing this unwanted partnership on him. "Let's get something clear. I don't want a partner, but it seems I don't have a choice. That doesn't mean I have to like it. I'll work with you if I have to, but that doesn't mean we can spend hours bonding with each other. I've got better things to do with my time." With that Curtis turned and took the stairs down to the car park, ignoring Keel's stunned expression and forcefully quashing the small feeling of guilt at the harsh words.

Okay, so lashing out at Keel probably hadn't been the best idea he'd had all day, particularly since he did have to work with the man, but it didn't matter. At least Keel knew where he stood now, and Curtis had no intention of becoming the man's best friend, so he didn't even need a good relationship with him. He'd be civil at work, do his job the way he always had, and that would be the end of it.

Sam Curtis didn't need a partner.

 

*****

 

**New Beginnings Story Two - Wasting Time**

~*~

_Here I am with pockets full of good intentions  
But none of them will comfort me tonight  
I’m wide awake at 4am without a friend in sight  
I’m hanging on a hook but I’m alright _

~*~

 

**Three weeks later**

Wearily letting himself into his apartment, Chris peeled off his jacket and let it stay where it fell, too tired to bother hanging it up properly. What did it matter anyway? It’s not like anyone was going to see the mess.

What the fuck was he doing here?

Sinking down into the comfort of the sofa, Chris stared up at the ceiling, finally letting his frustrations have a free rein. He was getting quite good at holding back, at not allowing people to see how he was really feeling. Something he was learning from his new partner perhaps, a man who seemed to have turned concealing his emotions into an art form.

Except for one emotion – contempt – that he seemed quite happy for his partner to see.

Of one thing Chris was certain; Sam Curtis didn’t like him. As far as he could tell, the only way Curtis could make it any clearer would be by wearing a sign stating the fact. Or perhaps he could tell people the first time he met them.

‘My name is Sam Curtis, and I hate my partner. Pleased to meet you.’

Except he wouldn’t use that word, would he? Revealing that he hated someone would be showing far too much emotion for someone as cold and unruffled as Curtis. In fact, he wasn’t even sure that what Curtis thought about him could be seen as contempt, because even that was probably granting the man with some degree of feeling. No, it was more a cold indifference – Curtis didn’t seem to care whether he, Chris, was there or not, and just carried on his job regardless, in spite of the fact that they were supposed to be partners.

About the only person Chris had ever seen his partner show any kind of emotion towards was Backup. He would have presumed that they were a couple, if he didn’t know that she was currently dating a chef called Tim, and had been for as long as he’d known her.

Nevertheless, around Tina his partner seemed to soften slightly, unfreezing enough to smile at her, to laugh at her jokes and exchange small talk, banter.

Under normal circumstances he could cope with his colleague’s indifference. He’d worked with people he’d barely known before, as well as some he’d actively disliked, without allowing it to have an impact on his job, but things were different now. He’d only been in the country for three months, and the CI5 induction schedule was such that he’d barely had time to settle in, returning from each day’s training too exhausted to do more than have a bath and retreat to bed.

He still hadn’t quite found his feet in CI5, hadn’t really made any firm friends there, didn’t really know anyone very well if he was honest. Stuck in a foreign country, with no family and practically no friends, Chris was lonely. More than once during the training programme, and fairly regularly since becoming a full agent, he had been tempted to simply resign and return to the States. Just one thing stopped him from getting on the next plane and not coming back.

His pride.

Chris Keel had never walked away from anything in his life, and he was damned if he’d start now. Besides, joining CI5 was a last-ditch attempt to prove to himself that he was still capable of achieving something, that he was worth something, and if he left now…

…he wasn’t sure if he’d have anything left.

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop him from being miserable.

However hard he tried to keep positive, and was determined not to allow anyone at work to catch a glimpse of these insecurities, Chris was afraid. Afraid that this might be all he could look forward to, that he’d lost any chance of real happiness he’d had when Teresa died. The fear that he’d be alone for the rest of his life was something he just couldn’t shake, and wasn’t helped when people like Curtis made it perfectly clear just how unimportant he was to them. These were his own insecurities, and something he couldn’t really blame Sam for, but that didn’t make the feelings any easier to deal with.

To think he’d been so pleased when told he’d passed the training programme. Chris had honestly believed that it heralded a new beginning, a new chapter of his life untainted by the wreck of the last few years. 

At first, he’d even seen being assigned a partner as a good thing, believing that they could get to know each other as London-born Curtis showed him round the city. Wishful thinking, perhaps, but Chris was a social creature, and this almost enforced isolation was slowly driving him crazy.

Efficient to a fault, Curtis didn’t seem to need time off, at least not with him, instead spending their precious hours off duty in the gym, or chasing some bimbo in a short skirt. Even when on duty there was no conversation unless it was directly related to work, and Chris was slowly getting used to spending hours in silence on surveillance.

In the end, Richards and Spence had taken him under their wing a little, the three of them going to the pub together from time to time. But there had always been that slight undercurrent, as if the other two men couldn’t understand why he and Curtis never spent any time together, but didn’t quite want to ask.

Most of the partnerships in CI5 did spend time together, because trusting your life to someone else meant that you became close, that you got to know them. Just not in their case, apparently.

Hell, maybe Richards and Spencer already knew why. From what little he could make out, Curtis’ reputation as a cold fish was well known throughout CI5, and quite what Malone had been thinking in partnering them Chris would never understand. He was almost tempted to ask Malone to split them up, but had so far managed to hold back since he had no legitimate reason to make the request. After all, what Curtis was doing was living according to the First Rule – never get emotionally involved. Malone’s own rules, and Chris couldn’t help feeling that going to his boss and complaining that Curtis wasn’t being friendly made him sound a little too much like a petulant child. ‘Please sir, Sam Curtis won’t let me play!’ Chris Keel had outgrown that kind of behaviour when he was six years old, and had no intention of starting again now.

Which meant he was back where he started, trying to get used to working with a man who obviously didn’t want him there, and didn’t trust him enough to open up. 

So far they’d mainly been on milk runs; information gathering and surveillance jobs which, while accepted practice when breaking in new recruits, gave Chris much too much time to think and nowhere near enough action, particularly after the manic adrenaline rush of working as a SEAL. When the job was quiet they barely spoke to each other, but on the rare occasions that they were busy things were no better. The adrenaline rush simply made him edgy, and they bickered constantly.

He was bored, he was lonely, and he was miserable – and he didn’t see things getting any better. Not unless he and Sam had a serious heart to heart. Which was about as likely as Malone standing on a desk, wearing a dress and singing to Gloria Gaynor.

Which left him right back at square one.

Joining CI5 was the first positive decision he’d made since Teresa died, and he badly wanted – no, needed – it to work out. Becoming a SEAL had, at the time, been little more than a need to take his mind off the massacre, a way to ignore what had happened and find an outlet for his rage, his overwhelming sense of grief. How he’d managed to hide it from the shrinks he’d never know, but he’d been accepted anyway, and gone slightly crazy there for a while.

Looking back, Chris knew that the SEALs had been a good move, of that there was no doubt. His sense of purpose, of duty, was all that had kept him going a lot of the time, but he’d also known when Malone contacted him with a transfer offer that it was time to move on. Chris knew, regardless of Curtis or anyone else’s opinion of him, that he could do his job. His style might be slightly different to most, (Sam had called him reckless, but Chris preferred to think of himself as pro-active), but he knew he was good, and he got results. But he missed the camaraderie, the support in the face of danger that he’d found with the SEALs.

It was perfectly obvious to anyone with even an ounce of common sense that Curtis found it difficult to trust, to place any kind of faith in someone. Chris couldn’t help but feel for him; something pretty drastic had to have happened in the past to make him act that way. Even knowing that, however, it was still a difficult thing to deal with day in, day out.

It wasn’t even as if he was expecting Curtis to spend every waking moment with him. Chris wasn’t looking for a new best friend, just some acknowledgement of his existence. A smile every now and then, friendly conversation while they were on surveillance or writing reports back at HQ. Some indication that Curtis saw him as more than an inconvenience, and Chris would be quite content to put up with the cold shoulder. 

He just needed that sign.

 

*****

 

Slamming the locker door shut, Sam Curtis made his way through to the gym, bristling slightly as the air-conditioned atmosphere made him shiver. This place always kept the room too cold. He knew you worked up a sweat exercising, but that didn’t mean you should risk hypothermia before you’d even started.

Not that it mattered too much. Placing a bottle of water down by his feet, Sam settled himself on the rowing machine and began using the controls. Fifteen minutes would do to start with, though Sam knew he’d come back to this machine at least three times before he’d finished his routine. He always tried to come to the gym at least three times a week, though his work schedule usually managed to interfere with that on a regular basis. That was the one good thing about not being trusted with anything important at CI5: at least he was working semi-regular hours.

A nice, gentle induction period, Malone had said, to allow the new partnerships to settle in, get used to the way each other worked. Except in his case, obviously, because he had no intention of ‘getting used’ to anyone. He didn’t do partners. After ten years working in MI6, where trusting someone meant risking your own life, Curtis knew he was set in his ways, and he just couldn’t bring himself to trust the Yank. It was nothing personal, and he didn’t dislike Keel, (quite the opposite in fact), but he just couldn’t risk it. Instead Sam preferred to remain aloof. If he didn’t get to know Chris, if they didn’t become friends, then Chris couldn’t betray his trust. And if the only way he could do that meant practically ignoring the man, then so be it.

Not that he could ignore him completely. As the jobs they were sent on became more dangerous, they were forced to work together, and the silence was beginning to turn into almost constant bickering.

Starting the timer, Sam began rowing, slowly at first, then building up gradually to a steady rhythm. Pull, push…pull, push. Working out all the tensions he’d built up over the day, and keeping his body in shape at the same time. The only problem with exercising was that it wasn’t enough to keep his mind occupied, and he often found himself thinking about things he’d rather ignore.

Like his new partner.

It was fairly obvious that Keel was getting annoyed at him, which Curtis didn’t enjoy, but was more than willing to put up with if that’s what it took. There was no way he could afford to get close to the man. He’d made that mistake before, and had paid dearly for the mistake – one he had no intention of making again. 

Even promising himself that he wouldn’t let his personal feelings get in the way of their working together didn’t mean he wasn’t hyper aware of the man, didn’t keep finding himself watching him, envying the friendship he seemed to be developing with Spence, and Richards. Part of Sam longed to have someone he could open up to, spend time with, but making friends with Chris or with anyone else was simply too dangerous. If he let his guard down, even a little, he’d open himself up for betrayal again. 

And then all hell would break loose.

 

*****

 

**One Week Later**

“Just what the hell did you think you were doing?”

As the voices drifted down the corridor into the Ops Room, Tina Backus groaned and fought the urge to bang her head against the desk in frustration. Not again. Surely they couldn’t have found something else to argue about?

Glancing over from his console, Spencer winced before trying to look supportive. “Sounds like Curtis and Keel are at it again.”

“Three weeks, Spence,” she muttered in desperation. “They’ve been like this for days! And when they’re not arguing they’re ignoring each other. When is Malone going to admit that he made a mistake pairing those two?”

“Nah. Malone’d rather suffer than admit he was wrong.”

“But he’s not the one suffering. We are. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

From the muffled groans and sighs around her, Tina knew she wasn’t the only one getting fed up with Curtis and Keel’s constant squabbling. If it wasn’t Chris complaining about Sam’s unfeeling exterior, then Sam was complaining about Chris’ constant inane chatter and reckless nature. She could practically repeat their arguments word for word she’d heard them so often.

While everyone in the office was certainly suffering, Tina didn’t think it was selfish to feel that she was caught up in it more than most. As the one in the office who handled all the personnel files, Tina knew more about her colleagues than the rest of the agents. Details of past cases, family histories, and while it was a duty she didn’t particularly relish, especially when it involved some of the more unpleasant details in their pasts, she was well aware that it gave her more of an insight into their characters, and why they were acting the way they did.

Unfortunately, it didn’t do much to help curb her impatience when they were bickering like a couple of schoolchildren. Fighting the urge to tell them both exactly what she thought, or even better to simply bang their heads together, lock them in a room and let them fight it out once and for all, she tried to tune out the angry voices and turned back to her work.

It didn’t help, and in the end she gave up her pretence at ignoring them and headed off to find the warring pair. Even if she couldn’t get resolve their problems, and Tina had no delusions that she could simply wave a magic wand and make everything perfect, at the very least she might be able to shut them up so that everyone else could get some work done.

She found them in the locker room, standing by Curtis’ locker and still locked in their argument.

“Just because you were in MI6 you think you’re James fucking Bond? Well let me tell you something 007, you’re not invincible, and there are some things you can’t do alone…” Keel’s voice dripped irony.

“Nor does that mean I have to be paired with someone who thinks they’re Arnold Schwarzenegger.”

“What?”

“A one man army? Rushing in where mere mortals fear to tread? Well the only thing that’s going to do is get you killed, Keel. And I for one do NOT want to be standing next to you when it happens! All you’re going to manage to do is get all of us killed.”

Keel reeled back as if he’d been slapped, and stared at Curtis in shock for a second before he wheeled round and took off, heading out of the room without another word. Standing silently in the doorway, Backup watched as Curtis stared after his retreating partner, confusion brushing across his face for just a second, before he shrugged and turned back to his locker, pulling out his jacket.

Toying briefly with the idea of talking to Sam, Backup recalled the look of shocked pain across Chris’ face and quickly backed out of the doorway in search of the American.

Jogging quickly down the corridors, she finally found Keel on his way to the car park, obviously intending on making a quick exit. Grabbing him by the arm, she felt him tense slightly as he spun round to face her, before he relaxed when he saw who it was. Encouraged by the fact that he seemed less tense in her presence, Backup silently beckoned to him before heading for one of the empty interrogation rooms, trusting Keel to follow. 

 

******

 

Jacket in hand, Sam was halfway down the corridor leading to the car park when he heard the muffled voices close by. At first he’d not been able to work out who they were, but they were coming from the interrogation rooms and Sam was well aware that there was no-one being interrogated there. His curiosity aroused, he took a slight detour, and walked silently into the observation room behind the occupied room. Slightly surprised at seeing Keel and Backus deep in conversation, he’d toyed with leaving them to it for a few seconds before deciding to stay. 

If his time in MI6 had taught him anything, it was that knowledge was power, even though part of him recoiled from spying on his own colleagues. Sam’s life had been saved in the past by discovering the smallest piece of information, and the chance to acquire some more knowledge about his partner than he’d been able to gather from the heavily restricted personnel file was simply too good to pass up.

So he quietly shut the door and took a seat in front of the one-way mirror.

“You should have seen him today, Backup. Ordering me around like I’m some new recruit barely out of the Academy.”

“I hate to point it out to you, Chris, but you’ve only been a full agent for less than a month.”

“I know that,” he snapped. “But so has he. I used to be a Navy SEAL, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t come over here to be treated like an idiot by some ex-MI6 spook with delusions of being James Bond.”

“Look,” she tried again, “just give it some more time, Chris. Every partnership takes a while to settle in. You’re bound to have a few teething problems…”

“Teething problems!” Chris burst out laughing, though there was no humour in his voice. “He can’t stand the sight of me, Tina, anyone can see that. And to be perfectly honest he’s not my favourite person either.” Sighing, Chris perched on the edge of the desk, looking exhausted. “I might as well face it. This isn’t going to work. Maybe it’s better for everybody if I just quit.”

Frowning, Sam looked closely at his new partner. He couldn’t recall ever seeing the man look so dejected. He certainly wasn’t the fiery, energetic character that he argued with all the time, who refused to back down over an argument and got wound up over the slightest thing. But then, there was no reason for his last crack in the locker room to have upset the man enough for him to walk away, either. Sam had been expecting Chris to come back with some sharp comment, or to simply lose his temper, not for the look of...well...grief he’d seen in that second before the man had stormed out.

“You can’t mean that,” Tina said, sounding surprised. “I heard what he said to you in the locker room, Chris, but he doesn’t mean it.”

The surprise on Chris’ face mirrored the surprise that Sam felt. She’d been watching them? Sam hadn’t noticed her anywhere during their aborted conversation. He must be slipping.

“About my attitude getting people killed?” At Backup’s nod, Chris continued. “Oh, he meant it, Backup. He’s been making snide comments like that ever since we were first partnered. He doesn’t trust me. He thinks I’m going to get him killed, just like I did…” With a look of alarm Chris broke off his sentence, leaving Sam to wonder what he was about to say. It almost sounded like the man had gotten somebody killed before joining CI5. That didn’t exactly bode well for their life expectancy, did it? Perhaps he had been right about his new partner all along.

“Oh, Chris,” Tina spoke, and Sam was surprised at the amount of compassion in her voice. She obviously knew what Chris had been referring to. Maybe he could ask her about it later. “You didn’t get anyone killed.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chris snapped.

“Yes, I do,” she persisted gently. “I handled your personnel file when you transferred here. I know all about your family.”

Family? What did his family have to do with anything? 

“Fuck,” Keel muttered, staring resolutely down at the ground.

“I also know that it wasn’t your fault. You can’t blame yourself for what they did.”

Sam sighed in frustration. Wasn’t anyone going to spell out what was going on? Something from Chris’ past was obviously still haunting him, something to do with his family, but beyond that he couldn’t work out. Whatever it was though, in spite of himself Sam felt some small amount of sympathy. He had his own difficult past, both personal and professional, and could empathise at least slightly with whatever his partner must be feeling. It was largely due to his own past that he found it so difficult to trust people. But at the end of the day, that had no impact with the way they were relating to each other. Regardless of whatever had happened, he still didn’t want a partner.

Nothing against Keel as a person, but he worked better alone. At least alone, if he screwed up he only had himself to blame, and he didn’t have to trust someone else not to let him down.

“Can’t I?” Keel snapped angrily. “You weren’t there, Backup. You don’t know anything.”

“You’re right, I don’t know all the details. But neither does Sam, remember? He doesn’t know anything about what happened. He didn’t say that to hurt you, or to remind you of what happened at the wedding. He doesn’t know anything about it.”

A wedding? Keel wasn’t married, so it had to be somebody else’s wedding. Sam filed that bit of information away, determined to do some digging later on to try and find out what they were talking about.

“I can’t keep it a secret for ever, Backup. Do you know what’ll happen when he does find out? He’ll go straight into Malone’s office and demand a new partner. I just can’t see any way out of this, unless I go to Malone first and ask for a transfer or something. At least that way I’ll save Curtis the trouble and leave with some semblance of dignity.”

Sam couldn’t help but feel irritated. Keel was making an awful lot of assumptions about him considering they’d only met three weeks ago. What made Keel think he knew him at all?

“Sam won’t do that,” Backup replied bluntly.

Chris laughed bitterly. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because he’s as damned stubborn as you are, and won’t want to be the one to give in.”

Well, well. It seemed like everyone at CI5 thought they knew everything about him. Sam chose to ignore the fact that he’d done exactly what Keel had said he would the day he found out he was to be teamed up, and thought instead about Backup’s statement. While he still didn’t want a partner, didn’t see how he could be expected to trust someone who was little more to him than a stranger, she was right.

As much as he’d complained and been frustrated at being partnered with Keel, after Malone had refused to allow him to work solo he hadn’t once considered going back to his boss and requesting to be re-teamed. Instead he’d settled for putting up with the American, for finding some way of working together without having to give anything away about himself, no matter how often Keel tried to relate to him.

Just because he had to work with the man, didn’t mean he had to pour his heart out to him. Although it seemed as if he wasn’t the only one who had been hiding something. Whatever this business with Keel’s family was, it had obviously affected the man deeply, and Sam wanted to know what it was. Especially if Keel considered it grounds for re-teaming.

If Sam was brutally honest, he didn’t actually mind spending time with the American. Given the choice he would rather work alone, yes, but out of all the people Malone could have partnered him with, Sam was honest enough to know that there were those far worse than Keel. Regardless of his initial thoughts when discovering who his partner was, Sam was grudgingly starting to see more to Chris Keel than he'd first thought. Yes, the man was reckless, but that recklessness only seemed to be with his own life, not with anyone elses.

The lack of trust was really nothing personal. Sam didn’t trust anyone any further than was absolutely necessary. Even the trust he was forced to place in Malone grated against Sam’s instincts, and he found it difficult to have faith that he would always be given the relevant information when going out into the field.

Still, even if his opinion of Keel had shifted slightly, Sam had worked hard not to let that show, and had obviously succeeded judging by Keel's words. His snide remarks about Chris had continued, but rather than being said because he meant them, Sam was instead using them as more of a shield. If he could keep Keel at a distance, even if that meant making the American hate him, then he was less likely to start trusting him, or relying on him. 

Quite apart from being afraid that Keel would betray him, there was another reason why Sam was reluctant to become friends with Chris. If he got used to Keel's presence, to working as a team instead of alone, then if anything happened to Keel he'd be thrown off balance, particularly if he was used to Keel watching his back. No, it was safer to work alone, even if he had to be friendless in order to do so.

Having said that, of course, Curtis was finding the constant bickering almost as tiring as Keel obviously was, and if his remarks about Keel's recklessness were proving this upsetting, then perhaps he should tone them down slightly. Sam was honest enough to himself to know that he started the majority of their arguments, so it wouldn't be too difficult to bite his tongue a little more often.

Curtis wasn't in the habit of pandering to other people's emotions, but being confronted with Keel in such a state was enough to make him stop and think. Whatever had happened in Chris' past certainly needed investigating, particularly if the man was as convinced that Sam would demand a new partner if he found out. But Sam knew how difficult it was to be reminded of a painful memory, and had more than a few of his own to prove it.

Sighing, Sam got up from the plastic chair and silently left the observation room. While listening to their conversation had been enlightening, certainly, he'd been wrong to eavesdrop in the first place.

Chris and Backup were entitled to their privacy.

 

*****

 

**New Beginnings Story Three – Someone to Believe In**

~*~

_So I've made up my mind I must live my life alone  
I know it's not the easy way I guess I've always known_

_Surely time will lose these bitter memories and I'll find  
That there is someone to believe in and to live for  
Something I could live for_

~*~

 

**One week later**

Climbing out of his car, Chris jogged across the road and rang the doorbell to Sam's flat. While things were still awkward, and they still had more than their fair share of arguments, Chris had been relieved to notice a slight thawing out in his partner over the last few days. Even down to Sam asking Chris to pick him up for work this morning while his car was being serviced, rather than getting a taxi like he had been doing.

It was hardly turning over a new leaf, but even the unspoken admission that Sam might actually need him around from time to time was enough to give Chris hope that they might actually be able to work together without killing each other. 

For the time being, at least.

The intercom crackled, and Sam's voice came tinnily from the speaker.

"Yes?"

"Morning Sam, ready for work?"

"I'll be down in a minute, Chris."

As usual when talking about things that weren't specifically work related Chris kept his words carefully neutral, preferring to play it safe rather than risk another 'I didn't want a partner in the first place' speech. Though it had been a couple of days since Curtis had launched into one of those as well, come to think of it.

Strolling back over the road, Keel leaned against the side of his car, waiting for his partner to appear. He didn't have long to wait, and in less than a minute the front door opened and Sam appeared. Exactly on time and immaculately dressed as always, Sam smiled briefly at Chris as he crossed the road and together they climbed into the car.

They drove in silence for a few minutes before Chris decided to risk starting a conversation.

"Do anything interesting last night? Or should that be 'anyone'?" Chris grinned. Okay, not particularly original, but since it was likely to get ignored anyway, it didn't matter much.

"Crude, Keel," Curtis replied, before indulging in a grin of his own. "But since you mention it, yes, thank you."

"Oh? Who was she? Do I know her?" Curtis' grin got wider, and Keel chuckled. "Is that a yes?”

Sam laughed.

"So? Come on Curtis, tell me more.”

At that Curtis glanced sharply across at him, and Chris cursed mentally and braced himself for a lecture. He'd learnt very early on in their partnership not to say anything that might sound like he was prying into Curtis’ preciously guarded personal life, though occasionally, like now, he spoke without thinking. But to his surprise Sam ignored the comment, instead relaxing slightly before speaking.

"Sorry Keel, a gentleman never reveals his secrets."

"For that to work though Sam, you'd have to be a gentleman." 

Sam laughed, but before he could reply was distracted as his mobile phone rang, and fished around in his pocket before answering it.

"Curtis." There was a pause before Sam spoke again. "Who?” A pause, then, “How did you get this number?"

Alerted by his words, Chris listened intently to the one sided conversation.

"Alright Turner, calm down. Where are you? ... Right. I'll be ten minutes."

With that Curtis hung up, his face set into the expressionless mask that Chris had come to associate with his partner when he was working.

 

*****

 

The phone went dead in his hand as Curtis ended the call, and Graham Turner closed the flap with a shaking hand.

Finally tearing his eyes away from the lifeline that the mobile represented, he glanced up at the people around him. Even before he'd made the call, he'd known that there was no way out. The guns pointed in his direction had made the outcome obvious, but Graham was essentially a coward, and a choice between a single bullet and a long, drawn out demise wasn't a difficult one.

"H-he's on his way," he stuttered, and as the gun closest to him took aim, Turner fought not to break down, to find some semblance of dignity in death.

Sam Curtis would have to take care of himself.

 

*****

 

"Who was that?"

"An old informant I had when I was in MI6. He's got some information for me and wants me to meet him."

"Whereabouts?"

Curtis hesitated. "He's nervous, Chris. Insisted that I go alone. Just drop me off somewhere here and I'll get a taxi."

“Oh c’mon Sam," Chris replied. "Look, there's no point in you getting a taxi. I'll drop you off wherever you're going, and wait outside."

"Not a good idea. He might freak if he sees you. I'll just get a cab, Chris."

Keel sighed. "How about a compromise? You'll never get there in ten minutes by taxi, it'd take you that long to find one. I'll drop you there, then go into HQ and cover for you with Malone. How's that?"

Sam smiled. "Alright. Thanks Chris."

Grinning, Keel spoke again. "So, where are we headed?"

 

*****

 

Keel felt a strange mixture of apprehension and contentment as they approached the street that Sam's contact had named. The civil conversation they'd had in the car earlier that morning was practically unheard of, and even if they'd only discussed something as inconsequential as who Sam might have slept with the night before, the fact that they'd even broached the topic at all was an achievement, considering Sam's previous insistence that they discuss work and work alone.

And yet, the phone conversation that had interrupted them bothered Keel. This guy Turner might be a known informant, but they were still on milk runs, so what on earth could he have to tell them? They weren't investigating anything at the moment, merely providing backup to the other teams and doing basic surveillance.

Besides, how on earth had the guy got hold of Sam's mobile number? The new mobile had come with the position in CI5, and unless Curtis had handed that number out to all his old contacts within MI6 - which given the man's feelings about trust Keel was inclined to doubt - there was no way Turner should have been able to get hold of it.

Raising his concerns with Curtis hadn't achieved anything either. Curtis had merely agreed with him and then changed the subject, apparently intending to carry on with the meeting regardless.

Slowing down as Curtis' directions became more detailed and they neared the rendezvous, Keel's concerns increased. Kings Cross wasn't especially safe at the best of times, but Sam seemed to be directing him to the most dingy, run down backstreets in the area. Finally turning onto Grove Street, Keel pulled over to the curb and killed the engine. This was where Turner had said to meet, in one of the derelict buildings that littered the area. In fact, from what little he could see, all the buildings on the street were empty, and the place was deserted.

Keel didn't like the looks of this, not at all, though he said nothing to Curtis. He had no basis for his unease, and he hardly thought that telling Curtis that his spider sense was tingling would produce the desired effect and convince him to let Keel accompany him to the meet.

Sighing, Keel turned to face his partner.

"Here we are," he began, taking in the shuttered expression on Curtis' face. "You sure about going in alone?"

"I'll be fine, Chris." Sam reassured him, though it gave Chris little comfort.

"You'd better get to HQ before Malone blows a gasket that we're both late."

"Sure," Chris replied. "I'll cover for you."

"Thanks." With that Sam opened the car door and stepped onto the pavement, throwing one last glance at Chris before disappearing into the maze of derelict buildings.

Starting the engine, Chris was about to pull away and drive back to HQ when he noticed something moving between the shadows. Whatever it was, it was heading in the same direction as Sam had, and Keel felt his unease double.

There was something very wrong here. 

He'd be very surprised if someone had simply decided to go jogging round the back of Kings Cross at this time in the morning, and the shape he'd seen was much too large to be a stray cat or dog.

Keel stopped the engine again, his mind working furiously. From what he'd managed to get out of Sam this guy had been nervous, and so insistent that Sam go alone that they'd both agreed he was probably hiding from somebody. Even informants didn't usually offer information spontaneously unless it was something personal.

So what was the chance that that somebody had found him?

Removing the keys, Keel opened the door and stepped out into the cool morning air. He had to check this out, just in case Sam was in trouble. Too many things didn't add up about this for him to let it go. Besides, if one of them was already risking the wrath of Malone by being late to Headquarters, their boss was quite capable of sharing his displeasure equally between the two of them. 

But Chris was also well aware that by following Sam he was effectively breaking his trust, since he'd agreed to return to Headquarters. With a sigh, Chris shrugged. Curtis didn't trust him anyway, so confirming the man's suspicions wasn't going to make too much of a difference.

He hoped.

 

*****

 

Gun drawn, Sam made his way carefully into the building the informant had mentioned, keeping a watch for anything unusual. In spite of his reassurances to Chris, he didn't like this setup much either. But he'd been reluctant to refuse, since Turner had always been a valuable informant.

They'd agreed to meet in an old office block on the ground floor. Most of the building's structure was still intact, though the window frames were crumbling away and most of the carpets were either rotting away or had been eaten at by the vermin that overran places like this.

There were a few doors hanging off their hinges, and some fire damage where someone had set the place alight, though Sam couldn't tell whether that was before or after the place had been abandoned.

The building was a good place to meet if you could be certain there was no-one around, but Sam was going into this meeting blind, and his footsteps echoed around the walls more than he would have liked. Quietly he began to circle the floor, looking for Turner but unwilling to announce his presence by calling for him just yet.

Heading into one of the larger offices at the back of the building, Sam barely had a chance to open the creaking door before he saw the body. In the centre of the room, sprawled face down on the ground was Turner. 

"Shit," Sam muttered.

Moving away from the door, Sam flattened himself against the wall for a second, listening intently for anyone nearby. A minute passed before he allowed himself to move again, as certain as he could be that no-one was around. Going over to the body, Sam rolled it over and smothered another curse when he saw the neat bullet hole in the centre of the man's forehead. 

Dead eyes stared up at him, staring through Sam as if he wasn't even there, and he released the body, moving swiftly towards the door. If someone had killed Turner to stop him from talking and then left the scene that was one thing, but there was always the risk that this was a trap, and Sam had no intention of getting caught if he could help it.

Sam never made it to the door. He'd almost reached it when someone appeared from other room, and Sam only got a brief impression of the man's stature before a kick sent him staggering back towards Turner's body. A second kick before Sam could recover his balance sent the gun skittering across the floor towards the other side of the room, and Sam yelled as pain shot up his right arm. He had a horrible feeling that the kick might have broken his wrist, but tried to ignore it as he turned to face his assailant.

Just about managing to stay on his feet, Sam saw three men enter the room, glancing at each one in turn before his eyes came to rest on the man standing in the middle. The one he recognised.

Johnston.

Eyes narrowed, Sam fought to push the pain in his right hand away somewhere where he wouldn't feel it. At least, not for the time being. This was not good.

"Hello Sam," Johnston said, his voice echoing eerily around the empty room. "You don't mind that I call you Sam, do you? After all, we're old friends."

Sam said nothing, refusing to give him any satisfaction.

The smile on Johnston's pale face disappeared, and he approached Sam menacingly. "I told you I'd see you again, Sam. We've got unfinished business, or had you forgotten? Maybe you thought your move to CI5 would mean I'd forget about you? Sorry, but my family has a longer memory than that. And a much longer reach than you might remember from when we last met." Johnston glanced briefly at the body behind Sam. "Poor Graham. He didn't want to call you, you know, but I managed to persuade him."

"Did he really have something to tell me?" Sam asked dryly, trying to stall for time till he could work out a way out of here. He was well aware of the two men moving slowly round to either side, and knew that when they made their move, the three of them would do so together. It was never as polite as in the movies.

"Regrettably, no," Johnston replied. "I just thought it was about time we renew acquaintances. Graham seemed as good a way as any to get you here."

If Johnston gave his men a signal, then Sam never saw it. Suddenly the three of them attacked, and Sam spun round to face the closest man.

Kicking out, Sam sent the first man stumbling backwards, watching him collapse with satisfaction before turning to Jenkins. Blocking his first punch, Sam lashed out and connected with the dark-haired man's jaw, but before he could follow that up he was grabbed from behind and dragged backwards a few steps, pulling him off balance.

Wrenching himself free, Sam pushed the third man roughly away from him before something hard connected with his head and he fell to his knees. Before he could recover he was pulled to his feet, his arms pulled behind him. As his captor put pressure on his right hand he fought not to cry out, and watched through narrowed eyes as Johnston approached him angrily, a gun in his hand.

"You son of a bitch," the man hissed. "Did you really think I'd let you get away from me again?"

Sam said nothing, watching intently for some opportunity to get away. 

"Oh, don't worry Curtis," Johnston continued. "I'm not going to kill you. I'm not about to bring CI5 down on my head even if it would bring me immense satisfaction. But you owe me for what you did to my brother, and it's time to collect."

A fist to his jaw snapped Sam's head sideways, and through the ringing in his head he felt the man holding him tightening his grip. Sam caught sight of the first man he had hit climbing to his knees before another blow came, then another. Suddenly, Johnston was suddenly spun round, and a kick to the groin sent the man to the ground in agony.

The arms holding him loosened slightly and Sam took his chance, kicking backwards and connecting with a shin, forcing the man to let go of him.

Spinning to meet the new threat, Sam was stunned as he caught sight of bright blue eyes and short, spiky hair.

"Keel?"

"Mind if I join you?" Chris quipped grimly, meeting Sam's gaze briefly before turning to face one of the two men who were still standing. 

A dozen questions running through his head, Sam pushed them to one side as he turned to face the new threat.

With Johnston still on the floor and the odds now even, Sam could see the two men glancing nervously at each other, though they stood their ground all the same.

The fight began again, and Sam traded blows with his attackers as Chris did the same. For a few moments it seemed as if they were going to win, but suddenly Sam heard the sound of running feet, and two more men appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, boss! There's a car parked..." one of the new arrivals trailed off as he saw the fight taking place, and Sam barely managed to yell a warning as one of them jumped Chris from behind.

 

*****

 

"Miss Backus," Tina glanced up from her computer screen as Malone approached her. "Where are Mr. Curtis and Mr. Keel?"

Glancing at her watch, Backup frowned in surprise when she realised the time. It was long past time for them to show up for work, but so far that morning she hadn't seen them. "I don't know, sir," she replied. "I'll call them and find out."

Nodding, Malone waited as she picked up the phone and dialled Curtis’.

“The mobile phone you have called is switched off. Please leave a message after the tone,” an impersonal voice informed her.

Damn. Now what? 

"It's switched off, sir. Should I try Keel?"

"Yes. If you get no answer, give it half an hour and try again. Keep me informed."

"Yes, sir."

Quickly dialling Keel, Backup let it ring a dozen times before hanging up. 

Damn. Where were they?

Half an hour and she'd try again, but Backup couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't simply running late. Keel being late she could believe, but not Curtis. He was too efficient, too punctual to be this late without letting them know.

Attempting to turn her thoughts back to more immediate tasks, Backup couldn’t quite take her mind off the clock slowly ticking.

 

****

 

Sam caught a brief glance of the wall hurtling towards him before he slammed into it, all the air knocked out of his legs as he collapsed to the ground. His head span for a few seconds, and his vision cleared just in time to see the boot that buried itself in his ribs, the pain making him cry out and curl up in agony.

Sparks shot behind his closed eyes, and he gasped for breath, trying to get some kind of control back over his treacherous body.

Finally managing to open watering eyes, he took in the legs around him dizzily before catching sight of Chris.

On his knees across the room, Chris had one arm round his ribs and was trying, unsuccessfully, to get to his feet. 

The legs moved, and a kick to the side had Chris flat on the ground, still moving, but only just. 

Sam forced himself to move, to go to his partner's aid, but had barely managed to push himself to his knees before a hand grabbed a handful of hair and dragged him to his feet. Hissing at the pain, Sam had no choice but to comply. An arm wrapped itself round his neck, and the gun that appeared at the side of his head kept Sam quiet, forced to simply watch as Chris’ hands were tied roughly behind him. 

Breathing heavily, Sam watched in growing horror as, finished with the ropes, Johnston climbed to his feet and began kicking the fallen man. 

Unable to stop himself, Sam cried out in protest, wincing as the arm around his neck tightened in warning.

Johnston stopped and turned to face him, looking slightly surprised. Sam took small comfort from the bruises on the man's face and the fact that he still wasn't quite able to stand up straight.

"You lied to poor Turner, said you'd be coming alone. So who's this then, Curtis?”

"Leave him out of this," Sam growled, trying to keep Johnston focused on him rather than Chris.

"After what he did? I don't think so. I'm surprised at you. The great Sam Curtis working with someone else?"

Sam couldn't stop himself from glancing across at Chris, worried, and Johnston obviously noticed, because he laughed and stepped over to Curtis. "Of course, now why didn't I think of it before? We've gone about this all wrong, boys. You hurt someone I cared about very much, Sam. I think it's time I returned the favour."

"Touch him again," Sam vowed, "and I'll kill you."

"Not a particularly convincing threat from someone in your position," Johnston replied, before slamming his fist into Sam's jaw.

Still reeling from the blow, at first Sam didn't feel the arm round his throat as it began to tighten, choking him. Gasping for breath, Sam could do nothing as Johnston returned to Chris' side and began to kick him again.

The arm round his neck continued to tighten, and Sam found his vision dimming even as he tried to struggle free, to go to his partner's aid.

Finally out of air, Sam barely felt himself being released as he collapsed, his last image that of his bloodied partner lying across from him.

 

*****

 

Consciousness returned, and as he woke Sam was unable to stop a groan from escaping. 

Everything hurt. Coughing weakly, Sam took a few seconds to try to overcome the pain, to relegate it somewhere where it couldn’t hurt him anymore.

He wasn’t totally successful, but after a while he managed to get a hold of it to some extent, and found that his breathing eased up as a result. Gathering up the tattered remnants of his strength, Sam forced his eyes open, and found himself staring at a wall. One he was intimately connected with, if he remembered the few minutes before everything went black.

Struggling to sit upright, Sam ruthlessly ignored the pain in his side as he moved, and tried to turn away from the wall he was lying beside, trying to see into the room behind him.

It was only when he was stopped from moving that he registered the cuffs round his wrists, and the heating pipe that he was chained to, running a few inches above the floor.

Cursing, Sam managed to get to his knees and, hunched over, was able to twist until his back was to the wall. With his arms pulled to one side the position was uncomfortable, but at least Sam was able to see more of his surroundings than the bricks.

Even that small movement sent his head spinning again though, and Sam squeezed his eyes shut as he fought against the nausea and the pain still coursing through him, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

Finally it eased a little, and Sam rested his head weakly back against the wall, angry at how quickly he’d become exhausted.

The logical, detached part of his mind was already cataloguing the possible injuries. Broken wrist, bruising, perhaps bruised ribs, though they didn’t hurt enough to be broken, he didn’t think.

Not exactly a welcome addition to the day, but nothing he hadn’t had before, so Sam was determined to set them aside until it was safe to deal with. Which certainly wasn’t now.

Something trickled into his eye, and he flinched slightly, blinking as whatever it was began to sting. Unable to use his hands, Sam settled for leaning down and using his shoulder to wipe away what he quickly realised was blood.

Terrific.

Taking a deep breath, Sam decided it was definitely time to get out of here.

Which meant finding Chris first.

Raising his head, Sam took his first good look at the room he was in. He was slightly surprised to see that he hadn’t been moved, and that he was still in the room where the fight had taken place.

So was Chris.

Over in the far corner, his partner was lying in a heap, arms still tied behind him.

Sam’s vision wasn’t particularly clear, but it didn’t look like Chris was moving. Sam suspected that the blood streaking down his face would bear a striking resemblance to that dripping into his own eyes, but the fact that Chris was still unconscious worried him.

And the man was much too pale.

Frowning, Sam looked back down at the cuffs round his own wrists, trying to think of some way he could pick them to get over to Chris.

He didn’t have his lock pick with him, though even if he did he doubted he’d be able to use it, but there had to be some way to get out of them.

Someone had to call an ambulance for Chris, and, he thought wryly, he could probably do with one as well.

Sooner or later someone would wonder why they hadn't reported in at work and start a search for them, but Sam had no idea when that would be, and didn’t intend on waiting if he could help it.

The first thing to do, apart from getting out of the damn cuffs, was to get Chris awake and lucid. And to keep him awake, which might be the difficult bit.

Listening intently, Sam satisfied himself that Johnston and his thugs were nowhere around, concerned that a shout might make them return and continue the assault.

Only once he was convinced that they weren’t going to reappear any time soon did Sam call out.

“Keel?”

Nothing.

“Chris! Can you hear me?”

Again there was no response. Sam sighed in frustration, and returned his attention to the cuffs round his wrists.

Standard, solid metal handcuffs that Sam knew he could pick in a couple of minutes with the right tools, but there was nothing around him. Not even a handy splinter of metal or wood or something he could try.

“Shit,” he muttered, his headache returning. 

Today had *not* been a good day.

 

*****

 

Half an hour passed slowly, and Backup tried both mobile numbers again without success.

Standing up, she crossed over to Malone's office and knocked on the door.

"Come in," he called.

She opened the door and walked inside. "There's still no word from Curtis and Keel, sir. I can't raise either of them."

Malone frowned. "Have Mr. Richards activate the tracer in Mr Keel's car, find out where they are and send a team after them."

"Yes, sir."

Leaving Malone's office, Backup went in search of Richards, her concern growing with every step. The GPS would locate Chris' car within a few minutes, but there was no guarantee that they were anywhere near it, and Backup couldn't shake the fear that something had already gone very wrong.

 

*****

 

His wrists were scraped raw, but finally Sam admitted defeat and gave up trying to force his wrists out of the cuffs. The steel was simply too tight, and all he’d managed to do was add one more ache to the list his body was currently presenting for his inspection. He had a sneaking suspicion that struggling wasn't doing anything to help his broken wrist, either. 

He’d had a fair idea that it was a pointless attempt, but sitting chained to a pipe wasn’t his idea of a good time, particularly not when his partner was sprawled unconscious only a few feet away.

Sam’s watch had been taken while he was unconscious (Johnston was a petty thief on top of everything else), and so he had no idea how long they’d been there, but he knew enough about head injuries to know that Chris being unconscious this long was not a good thing.

Unable to get free, there was nothing more Sam could do but watch, wait, and hope.

If only he could get closer to Chris, he might be able to wake him, or at the very least get a better idea of the extent of his injuries.

Deciding to try another tack, Sam turned his attention to the pipe that the cuffs had been looped round. He tried shaking it, to see if there was any chance he could force it away from the wall. While it did rattle slightly, the sound echoing across the room, there was very little give there, and Sam could see he’d be unlikely to be able to pull it away with brute force alone. This is where he really needed to be James Bond, he decided ruefully, reminded of what Chris had said to him a few weeks before. A small laser hidden in his shoe would come in very handy just about now.

Glancing along the wall to see where the pipe ended, in case there was a less secure piece of piping there somewhere that he might have better luck with, Sam realised with a start that the pipe ran the length of the room, running right past Chris’ still form. He might not be able to get free, but that didn’t necessarily mean he couldn’t get to Chris.

Getting his knees under him, Sam half crawled along the pipe, moving slowly towards his partner and praying that the pipe wasn’t secured to the wall by any brackets before it reached Chris.

Seeing that the pipe was thankfully bracket free, Sam decided that his luck was definitely in, before realising ruefully how ridiculous that statement sounded considering his – their (he wasn’t the only one in trouble any more) - current predicament.

Finally he reached Chris’ body, and was alarmed to see that things looked no more encouraging close up. 

In fact, if anything, things looked worse now that he could get a closer look at his partner. In spite of being unconscious Chris was trembling, with blood trickling down the side of his face. 

His breathing was shallow and uneven, and Sam knelt down as close to his partner as he could, wincing as the metal cut even further into his wrists. As if that wasn’t bad enough, when Sam listened closely he could hear a strange, almost rattling sound that coincided with Chris’ laboured breathing. 

Fuck.

He recognised that sound.

Visions of punctured lungs and internal bleeding crossed Sam’s mind, and he swore quietly as he realised just how badly Johnston had hurt Chris.

And the worst of it was, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do. He and Chris only had one hope – that Malone would be particularly efficient this morning, and notice that they hadn’t shown up for work. Even then, Malone had to be resourceful enough to send people out looking for them, rather than just writing himself a memo to bawl them both out when they finally showed up.

Unfortunately, they might not both show up in one piece.

He still wasn’t close enough to be able to touch Chris, but Sam found that by stretching his legs out straight in front of him, he could just about reach his shoulder.

Gently he began nudging Chris, again trying to rouse him.

“Chris! Come on Chris, please!”

To Sam’s relief, this time Chris stirred. At first it was nothing more than a twitch, and Sam had almost convinced himself that he was imagining things when Chris moaned quietly.

Eyelashes fluttered open, and Sam found himself staring into eyes dull with pain and confusion.

“Chris?” Sam spoke gently, not sure if Chris could even hear him.

Chris blinked slowly, before suddenly twisting awkwardly to one side and throwing up.

His alarm increasing rapidly, Sam waited until Chris had finished coughing before nudging him again.

“Chris? Chris, listen to me. We have to get out of here, understand?”

Slowly raising his head, Chris managed a nod, though even that slight movement had him grimacing in pain.

“Can you get loose?”

Considering the state of his partner, Sam was pretty certain the answer would be no, but he had to try. If nothing else, the longer he could focus Chris’ attention on him, the more chance he had of keeping the man conscious.

Chris stilled for a second before flexing his arms, biting his lip to keep from crying out. Eventually he gave up.

“N…no,” he muttered, his words slurring in to each other. “No chance.”

“Damn,” Sam muttered to himself, before another idea occurred to him. “Chris? See if you can move closer to me, maybe I can untie you.”

Nodding, the next few moments passed in silence as Chris slowly, painfully inched closer to where Sam was sitting.

It seemed like it took forever, and seeing the obvious pain Chris was in even from those small movements upset Sam more than he wanted to admit, even to himself.

Before Chris had moved more than a few yards towards Sam he stopped and slumped back down to the ground, obviously exhausted.

“S…sorry Sam,” he slurred, his voice barely more than a harsh whisper. 

Sorry? What the hell did the man think he had to be sorry for? None of this were Chris’ fault. In fact, Sam realised, Chris had probably saved Sam’s life, considering that he’d taken the beating meant for Sam. Even though Johnston had told Sam he wasn’t going to risk being arrested for the murder of a CI5 agent, considering the man’s fury Sam had taken little comfort from that assertion. He hadn’t been willing to trust that Johnston would keep his word, but Chris’ arrival had prompted Johnston to change his plan, morphing it into something slightly more twisted than a revenge inspired beating.

What a mess.

Unable to do anything constructive, Sam had to satisfy himself with sitting as close to Chris as possible, trying to impart some kind of warmth and comfort to his now unconscious partner.

There had to be some way out of here. If he couldn’t get out of the cuffs, and Chris wasn’t up to helping, then he’d simply have to come up with something else. 

So why couldn’t he think of anything? 

Consciously willing himself to focus, Sam began another careful search of the room, trying to see if there was anything he’d missed that might help them get out of here.

The only problem was, every few seconds he found his gaze drifting back over to Chris, hoping each time that there would be some change, that Chris would wake up and reassure him that he was fine.

That didn’t happen, and as time passed with no brilliant ideas and no sign that Chris was going to wake, Sam found himself drifting into despair.

 

*****

 

God alone knew how long he sat there listening to Chris’ laboured breathing, but Sam was beginning to lose hope when he heard noises outside the room. Tensing, Sam wondered exactly what he was going to do if it was Johnston and his gang returning. He was damn certain that Chris wouldn’t survive Round Two, but there wasn’t much he could do to stop it.

He listened carefully to the footsteps, hoping to work out who it was, but it was a few moments before he heard the quiet voices.

Backup.

“Thank God,” he muttered, before shouting, “Backup! In here!”

He waited a few seconds, and the movement outside the room stilled.

“Backup!” he yelled again, louder this time, and waited impatiently as the door burst open and Backup appeared, gun drawn.

“There’s no one else here,” he called, and saw the shock on her face as she took in their situation. “Just get a bloody ambulance.”

Pulling out her mobile Backup hurried across the room with Spencer at her heels, and Sam leant down to Chris, pulling against the cuffs to get over to him.

“Chris? You still with me?”

Chris moaned slightly in response, but didn’t open his eyes.

“Shit,” Sam muttered as Spence knelt beside him and began fiddling with the handcuffs. 

“What happened?”

“Long story,” Sam replied. “Come on Spence, get these things off me.”

“Hold on,” Spence muttered, before Sam heard the click as the cuff round his wrist finally opened.

Ignoring the pain in his wrist, Sam scrambled over to kneel properly at Chris’ side. “Chris, mate? It’s over. Backup’s here. Can you hear me?”

Chris’ eyes fluttered open for just a few seconds before he passed out again. 

“Where the hell’s the ambulance?” Sam demanded, turning worried eyes on Backup as she sliced through the rope round Chris’ wrists.

“It’s on its way Sam,” Backup replied. “Are you alright?” she asked, looking Sam over carefully.

“I’m fine,” Sam replied bitterly.

Backup looked sceptical, and for a second Sam thought she was going to call his bluff, but after a few seconds she turned back to Chris.

Relieved that help was on the way Sam sat back and let Backup take control, allowing himself to give in to the pain in his head for just a few minutes now that he wasn’t trying to deal with this on his own.

Leaning back against the wall, Sam kept one hand on Chris’ shoulder, trying to pass on some sense of comfort to his partner until the ambulance came.

“How long has he been like this?” Backup’s voice broke the silence.

Sam shrugged. “What time is it?” As Backup told him he groaned when he realised just how long they’d been there. “Over an hour,” he replied. “He’s been drifting in and out of consciousness since they left us here.”

“Who are they? Are you going to tell me what happened?” She glanced around the room, her eyes coming to rest briefly on Turner’s body. “Who was he?”

Sam raised tired eyes to meet Backup’s. “What’s to tell? We got into a fight and we lost.”

Looking frustrated, Backup was about to demand more details when Spencer returned from his scout round the building.

“There’s no-one around, guys. Whoever did this is long gone, but the ambulance is here.”

“Damn,” Backup muttered. “Malone won’t be pleased with this.”

“Sod Malone,” Sam snapped, and Backup raised her eyebrows in surprise at such an un-Curtis like statement. “We can worry about him when we know Chris is going to be alright. Do the paramedics know where to come?”

Spencer nodded, and a few seconds later the two paramedics came through the door. Sam relaxed slightly, and while he let go of Chris’ shoulder to allow them to work, he made no attempt to leave Chris’ side.

The paramedics seemed to take forever, kneeling over Chris’ prone form and working quickly. While Sam knew that Chris was finally in the best hands, he was still desperately worried about his partner. That in itself was worrying the Englishman, and had been since he’d realised just how ill Chris was. Only now that Chris was getting the help he so badly needed did Sam allow himself to examine the unexpected and unwelcome feelings that had been buzzing round his head.

While Sam would expect to be worried in situations like this, that was just human nature, the whole point of keeping your distance from people was to minimise that worry. To stop yourself from getting distracted from the problem at hand. And Sam was all too well aware that his clinical assessment of their situation had been hampered by his almost overwhelming concern for his partner. What Sam couldn’t work out, though, was exactly why he’d been so worried. And if that sounded harsh, then it certainly wasn’t meant to be, but the man shouldn’t even have been there. 

If Chris had done what Sam had asked of him, then he’d be safely at CI5 Headquarters right now, not lying unconscious on a stretcher with a suspected punctured lung and broken ribs.

But then, Sam also knew that if Chris hadn’t waded in to help when he did, Sam would be the one on the stretcher instead. Assuming anyone had even thought to check up on him. No, in all likelihood he’d be dead now, and no-one would even know.

Instead, Chris had reappeared just in the nick of time, and had inadvertently taken the beating that Johnston had intended for him. 

Johnston had obviously believed that he and Chris were close friends, and had taken the opportunity to hurt someone close to Sam just as Sam had hurt his brother all those years before. Though Sam suspected that the knee Chris had planted in Johnston’s groin hadn’t exactly endeared him to the man.

Only Johnston had miscalculated, because he and Keel weren’t friends, and so it hadn’t affected him as much as he’d planned it would.

Had it?

Finally happy with the condition of their patient, one of the paramedics began moving Chris out of the derelict building and towards the ambulance.

Holding out his good arm to Backup for balance, Sam levered himself to his feet, wincing as his muscles protested against the movement. 

The other paramedic headed over to Sam as he walked after the stretcher.

“Would you like to come in the ambulance? We’ll get you checked out on the way to the hospital.”

Sam nodded and climbed wearily into the back of the ambulance. Before they could shut the doors, though, Backup leaned in and spoke to him.

“We’ll follow you to the hospital, Sam.”

Sam didn’t have the energy to reply, and Backup threw them both a worried look before the paramedic closed the doors and the ambulance started moving. 

 

*****

 

The wait at the hospital was an anxious one for both Sam and Backup. Sam and Chris had been separated as soon as the ambulance had reached the hospital, and Sam had endured being patched up as patiently as he could considering none of his queries about Chris’ condition had been answered.

The staff had merely told him that Chris was in the best hands, but that there was no news. Instead they had cleaned up the remnants of the fight and set his broken wrist, before discharging him and recommending that he go home and rest.

Sam had ignored the last piece of advice, instead sitting in the waiting room with Backup, waiting anxiously for some news on his partner.

The hours passed slowly, and Backup had stayed silent, simply telling Sam when he appeared that she’d called Malone and told him what had happened. Sam was expecting the questions, though, and wasn’t particularly surprised when they came.

“Are you going to tell me what happened, Sam?” she asked gently. “Malone’s going to want to know when he arrives.”

“He was watching my back, Tina,” Sam replied cryptically, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, staring down at the floor. “I didn’t even ask him to.”

Tina rested a hand gently on his shoulder, and Sam slowly told her what had happened. When he had finished, she sighed before speaking.

“Are you really that surprised, Sam?” Sam raised his head to look at her in confusion, and she continued. “Chris is your partner. I know you find it difficult to trust people, but maybe you should make an exception for Chris. His loyalty to you is unconditional.”

“I barely know him,” Sam muttered.

“Then spend time with him,” she urged. “If nothing else, this should prove that you can rely on Chris.”

“Mr. Curtis?” A doctor called his name, and as Sam pulled himself to his feet and went over to him, he saw Malone entering through the main doors. He hesitated, knowing that Malone would want a report, but needing to find out how Chris was.

“Go on,” Backup gestured towards the doctor. “I’ll field Malone.”

“Thanks,” Sam replied before walking the final few steps and identifying himself.

“Your friend is very lucky,” the doctor began, and Sam breathed a sigh of relief. “He has a three broken ribs, one of which punctured his lung,” at Sam’s look of alarm, the doctor held up a hand to stop Sam’s questions before he continued, “but his condition wasn’t life- threatening, and he’s stable. It’ll be a while before he’s back on his feet, but there’s no reason why he shouldn’t make a full recovery.”

“Can I see him?”

The doctor nodded. “Of course. He’s sleeping at the moment and we’ll be moving him on to a ward later, but for now you can sit with him if you like.”

Sam followed the doctor down the corridor and into one of the cubicles. Chris was lying in the corner bed, his face pale beneath the bruising.

Sighing, Sam pulled one of the plastic chairs closer to the bed and settled in it, not planning on moving till he’d seen for himself that Chris was okay. Exhausted himself, Sam had settled into a half doze when a hand settled on his shoulder he jumped. Heart racing, he whirled round with a start, a curse dying on his lips when he saw Malone standing behind him.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Curtis?” he asked.

“Fine, sir,” Sam replied, trying to get his nerves back under control.

“The doctors tell me that Mr. Keel will make a full recovery.”

Sam nodded.

“If you’ve been discharged, would you come back to CI5 and fill me in on exactly what happened? Miss Backus has given me a brief rundown, but…”

“No, sir,” Sam interrupted, aware that he was taking his life in his hands. 

“No?” Malone echoed, obviously surprised at Curtis’ refusal.

“I’m staying here, sir. At least until Chris wakes up.” Bracing himself for Malone’s wrath, Curtis was surprised when the outburst didn’t come. Instead Malone simply frowned, and was silent for a few moments, watching him. Finally he nodded.

“Very well, Mr. Curtis. Keep me informed of any developments. I’d suggest that you do try to get some rest tonight. You can report back to HQ at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”

 

*****

 

Voices whispered at the edge of his awareness, dragging him back from the darkness. The pain he remembered so vividly had gone, to be replaced by a dull ache and an almost bone-numbing exhaustion. In spite of that, Chris made no attempt to go back to sleep, needing to know what had happened, what the voices were saying.

“…thank you, sir…” Sam? “…I just…make sure he’s alright…”

“I’ll see you back at base, 3.7.”

Chris heard the sound of footsteps as Malone left, and he tried to open his eyes, to speak to his partner and reassure him.

It seemed to take forever, but eventually he managed to peel his eyes open and blinked at the harsh hospital light.

“Chris?”

Sam’s face swam into view, and Chris had to blink several times before he could focus properly. Sam smiled when he saw Chris was awake, and Chris could plainly see the relief on his face. 

“Hi,” he whispered.

“How are you feeling?” 

Chris rolled his eyes. “I’ve been better. Are you alright?”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Sam began, though his voice held none of the anger that his words suggested. Instead, the Englishman simply sounded weary, and a little confused.

Looking oddly embarrassed, Chris simply shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Crazy bloody Yank,” Sam replied softly. “They could have killed you.”

“They almost killed you Sam, remember?”

“I’m hardly likely to forget, Chris. But it wasn’t your fight. You shouldn’t even have been there, and then you almost get yourself killed!” Before Chris could respond, Sam continued, “What were you doing there anyway? We’d agreed to meet back at the office.”

Chris was silent for a while, and Sam couldn’t be sure whether he was trying to decide what to say, or was simply tired. He was about to suggest that he leave and let his partner get some rest, when Chris finally answered.

“We didn’t agree anything, Sam. You practically ordered me to leave you there. And I was about to. But then I saw someone following you…” Chris trailed off, shifting uncomfortably on the bed before sighing. “I just had a bad feeling, I guess, and I didn’t want to leave you there alone, so I parked the car out of sight round the corner and came after you. Got there just in time to join in the fight. Not that it made much difference in the end.”

“It wasn’t your fight,” Sam repeated softly, still trying to work out why the American had put himself out for him.

“Yes it was,” Chris replied firmly. When Sam went to interrupt, Chris held up his hand to silence him. “Let me finish, Sam. I know it had nothing to do with CI5. But whatever the reason they were after you, and you can take me out for a beer and tell me that story when I’m feeling more like myself, we’re partners, remember? As far as I’m concerned, partnerships don’t end as soon as we clock off for the day. Anything that affects you affects me as well. You needed my help, so what kind of partner would I have been if I’d left you to get killed simply because it wasn’t official CI5 business? Besides, you would have done the same for me if the roles had been reversed.”

At that Sam stiffened. That, in a nutshell, was the whole problem. Because Sam wasn’t sure whether he would have gone to Chris’ rescue. Quite apart from anything else, the chances were that he’d simply have driven back to HQ without giving his partner a second thought, except perhaps for working out how to explain his absence to Malone. It simply wouldn’t have occurred to him that there might have been a need for him to stay.

Glancing nervously back up at his partner, Sam saw that Chris was expecting some kind of answer, an affirmative that Sam would indeed have backed Chris up in the same way. For a second Sam considered lying, telling his partner what he wanted to hear rather than what he was so afraid was the truth. But after everything that had happened, Chris deserved the truth. Or at least, as much of the truth as Sam could work out himself.

“Chris,” he began hesitantly. “I…I don’t know that…”

“Don’t,” Chris interrupted. “Don’t sit there and tell me that you wouldn’t have done the same for me.” Instead of being angry, as Sam had expected, Chris almost sounded amused. “You’re not as cold-hearted as you like to make out, Sam. I don’t remember much about what happened, sure, but I remember you talking to me trying to keep me awake. And I heard what you said to the doctors about staying here until I’d woken up. You care more than you think you do Sam.”

Breathless Chris leant back into the pillow, tired out after such a long speech.

Sam didn’t know what to say, and Chris smiled weakly at his bewildered expression.

“Go home Sam. I’m not going to be much company for a bit anyway. Get some sleep, and you can come back and drive me home in the morning.”

“In the morning? Not likely, Keel,” Sam replied, fighting to keep a straight face. “You’re going to be in here at least a week.”

“Okay, two days,” Chris bartered back.

“Three.” 

“Done.”

 

*****

 

Sitting behind the wheel of his car, Malone smiled as he started the engine. The surprise on Curtis’ face that Malone had agreed to his demand that he be allowed to stay with his partner had amused him, but secretly Malone had been pleased at the man's reaction.

CI5’s psychiatrists had questioned Curtis’ cold, seemingly unfeeling façade after the psychological assessments, fearing that he was too shut off from those around him, too unwilling to trust to become an effective and stable field agent. In spite of that, Malone had overridden their objections and accepted him onto the training programme anyway, believing that all he had to do was find the right partner, someone who would be able to bring back Curtis’ confidence in his colleagues, at least to some extent.

While the incident that had inspired Curtis’ obvious change of heart was regrettable, Curtis’ concern for Keel belied their previous bickering, and suggested that he had been right to partner the two of them in the end.

 

*****

 

Chris grinned, and watched as Sam picked up his jacket and headed over to the doorway. As much as he would rather not be in the hospital, the American was well aware that he’d learned more about his partner in the last day or so than he had in all the time since they’d met. As optimistic as he was, though, Chris knew that there was a long way to go before Curtis learnt to trust him completely.

Pausing in the doorway, Sam glanced back in his direction and smiled. “I’ll come in and see you tomorrow,” he finished, before disappearing off down the corridor.

Settling down to try and get some rest, Chris smiled.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for their partnership after all.

 

FINIS


End file.
